


Help

by autisticblueteam



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Character, Autistic Character(s), F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, bipolar character, carwash siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6850531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticblueteam/pseuds/autisticblueteam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash has had a terrible week. Everything is going wrong. He needs help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be for fluff week on tumblr, but unfortunately I didn't get it done in time. So it's done now!
> 
> (Specific warnings: Brief references to self-harm; a focus on disassociation and depressive feelings (specifically those linked to bipolar II and a depressive episode)

You know those days, the ones where nothing seems to be going your way? The days where one thing after another goes wrong, and it seems like you simply _cannot_ get back in control of what’s happening?

David “Wash” Church was having one of those kind of _weeks_.

He’d woken up on Monday morning to the familiar sound of an alarm, and to the familiar grumbling of the person beneath him. The arm around his waist had clutched him a little tighter, the alarm cutting off abruptly and leaving them in silence. Wash had felt reluctant to open his eyes, thinking that maybe if he just pretended he was still asleep that he wouldn’t have to deal with this; at least, not have to deal with this _yet_. But no. A kiss was pressed to his forehead, followed by a quiet mumble of his name, and he couldn’t pretend anymore.

Maine was going on deployment.

They got up and did the usual morning dance, slipping past each other with quick kisses as they traded positions in their small bedroom and bathroom. They acted as if nothing was different. It was easy, almost, to pretend that nothing _was_ different, until Maine was in their uniform. It was then it became real again, that it sunk in. After that everything was a blur; Wash knew that they had breakfast, and he knew that his sister and her fiancé had picked them up. He knew that he’d clung tightly to Maine’s hand for as long as physically possible; he knew that he’d hugged them as tightly as he could muster; he knew that he’d cried when they finally left.

(Honestly, he’d felt a little pathetic for it. He was a grown man! He should be stronger than this!)

But other than that, the day was a blur.

He’d woken up on Tuesday to the familiar sound of an alarm, but there was no grumbling beneath him and no warm arm wrapped around his body. But nevertheless he dragged himself out of bed; got himself dressed; and made himself breakfast. He let the answer machine play back a message from his sister as he fed the cats, and resolved to call her back later. He had to get to work; at least _that_ was the same as normal.

Except work was hell. It was like every possible bad customer had chosen today, of all days, to come into the café where he worked and turn his life into a living nightmare. By the end of the day he was so exhausted that he only had the will to feed Ari and Skyler before he fell into bed without eating anything.

He’d woken up on Wednesday to the familiar sound of an alarm, and not expecting any grumbling beneath him or an arm wrapped around him. He dragged himself out of bed; got dressed; fed himself and the cats; and went to work. Surely today had to be a better today.

He messed up multiple orders within the space of only a few hours; he spilt coffee all over a customer and landed on his face; he started to _cry_ when he saw someone who looked like Maine. His boss, luckily an old friend, had to send him home early.

He collapsed into bed as soon as he arrived home.

He woke up on Thursday to the familiar sound of an alarm, the cold chill of the morning air and the uncomfortable feeling of yesterday’s clothes. He dragged himself out of bed; got into a clean uniform; and left for work. He could stay home, Noah would understand, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He had to get out of the house.

Order after order went by as he worked through dull haze, not really taking anything in. Noah kept asking if he was okay, asking if he wanted to go home, but he just brushed him off. He was fine. This was fine. He could get through the day. He could get through the day.

It was about midday that it hit him that he hadn’t fed Ari and Skyler. And it was about midday that he dropped a customer’s plate onto the floor and started to cry.

He was ushered to the kitchen as Noah dealt with the screaming, very unsympathetic customer. Between tears and sobs he managed to tell Natasha that he had to go, he had to go home and feed his cats. Natasha had looked to Noah as he returned, and the next thing Wash knew he was in a car as Noah drove him home, despite Wash’s insistence that he could get home on his own. But he was still crying, and so the words didn’t hold much weight.

He held it together long enough to convince Noah he was okay to go into the house on his own. He held it together, despite the tears. And then he burst into the home, fumbling with his keys and falling back against the door as it shut, breathing heavily and shaking. There was blood in his mouth. He had to resist banging his head back against the door over and over and−

He fed Ari and Skyler, and sunk to the floor against the wall. The cats nudged his legs; crawled over his lap; pawed at him; made noise. His sobs only got stronger.

“I-I’m sorry, god I’m… I’m s-sorry…” He said through tears, slamming his fists against the floor, only careful to avoid hitting the cats that still stayed close by. He hissed air through his teeth; his chest ached and tightened; every nerve was alight with pain and he just wanted it to _stop_ he had to make it _stop_ he−

He should just _die,_ he just needed to− to−

He needed help.

He needed _help_.

He pushed himself up to his knees and grabbed the house phone from the side, slumping back again as he shakily dialled his sister’s number.

“ _…Wash_?”

“C-Carolina…”

“ _Oh thank god! Wash where have you been? You never answered my messages I was getting worried, what−_ “

“I-I need help. I… I need help…” Wash swallowed hard, tears falling onto Ari’s head as she nuzzled his jaw, “I… I f-forgot to feed Ari and Skyler this m-morning and I-I broke down at w-work a-and… I-I… I-I think I’ve c-cycled into a de-depressive ep-episode and… I… I-I’m… I-I’m scared, sis… I-I’m scared o-of what I’m g-gonna do if I’m in t-this house alone a-any longer…”

“ _David… I’ll be right there. Can you pack an overnight bag?_ ”

“I-I don’t think so, I-I… I-I can barely b-breathe I…”

“ _Alright, I’ll pack one for you when I get there. I’m going to talk to John, then I’m going to put him on the phone whilst I drive over okay?_ ”

“O-Okay.”

There was a couple of minutes of silence, during which Wash focused on Ari nuzzling his face and petting her, before York’s voice reached him, “ _David, hey. Lina’s on her way over right now, okay? She’ll be like ten minutes._ ”

“O-Okay,” He swallowed hard again, “I-I’m sorry J-John, I’m…”

“ _Hey, don’t be. You can’t help it, man, the person that means the world to you just left. We’ve been worried about you ever since they left, David. Lina’s been calling every day._ ”

“I-I…” He didn’t know what to say. The taste of blood was still in his mouth from where he’d bitten his cheek, “I-I’m sorry…”

“ _There’s nothing to be sorry for. We have your back, man, you know that right? We’re here for you._ ”

Wash nodded, until he realised a nod couldn’t be heard, “I… y-yeah…”

“ _Lina’ will be there in no more than five minutes, okay? Hang in there Wash,_ ” York said, and Wash just nodded.

He kept talking as Wash sat there, waiting for Carolina to get to him. York was the master of distraction; he could come up with things to say so easily, and his voice was familiar and calming. Wash didn’t say much in return, but he sat there just listening to him as he waited. Ari and Skyler had now curled up in his lap, nudging their heads against his stomach. He was able to focus on these things. They were _something_ he could ground himself on.

Carolina let herself in with her key four minutes later, and was at Wash’s side in an instant.

“S-She’s here…”

“ _Alright, I’ll hang up now okay? See you soon_ ,” York said, the call cutting off a second later.

“David, hey,” Carolina knelt by him, brushing his hair from his face. Wash snivelled, letting the phone drop to the floor and looking at her, “Everything will be alright, okay? I’m going to go pack you an overnight bag. Is there anything in particular you want me to pack?”

“I… A-Anything, really… C-Chews, w-whatever clothes I-I don’t mind…” Wash said, his voice shaking. Skyler head-butted his stomach, and he scratched her head, “A-And um… M-Maybe one of I-Isaac’s sh-shirts or s-somethin’…”

Carolina smiled a little at that, ruffling his hair, “Alright. I’ll be right back. You think you can get Ari and Skyler ready to go?”

“I… I think so…”

“Alright, be right back,” She kissed his forehead, and then disappeared from sight.

She returned no more than five minutes later, as Wash finished coaxing Skyler and Ari into their carrier. She had an old backpack slung over her shoulder, no doubt filled with whatever belongings Wash would need for at least the next few days, and Wash could still see the worry in her eyes. He gave her what he knew was an unconvincing smile, and she sighed quietly as she walked over.

“Come here. Let’s get to the car,” She said, holding her free arm out to him. Wash swallowed the last of the metallic taste in his mouth and walked over, letting her tuck him to her side with her arm around his shoulders. He held the carrier with his cats in close. He tried not to start crying again.

Carolina lead him to the car. She drove him to the home she and York shared. She’d never been a big talker, but she filled the silence with sound nonetheless. She talked about York’s antics at home; she talked about the plans for their wedding; she talked about the music that came on the radio; she found things to say. She kept him distracted, kept his focus on other things. By the time they pulled up to the house Wash’s tears had fully stopped, though he still looked a mess, and he was able to walk unsupported.

“Hey pal,” York said, greeting them at the door, “Come on, we’ve pulled out the couch bed.”

Wash let himself be lead through to the family room, where he could see the couch bed set up and covered in blankets. Carolina set the backpack down on the corner and unpacked a few things, such as Wash’s favourite blanket and one of Maine’s massive shirts. The rest she left in the bag, which she tucked under the end of the bed.

“Get comfy, alright? You need to rest,” She said, tossing him the shirt, “Get out of your uniform and lie down. If you don’t think you can sleep then you put on some TV, okay?”

Wash nodded, slowly getting out of his work clothes, “Yes boss.”

He smiled a little. Carolina laughed quietly, shaking her head.

When the uniform was discarded and he was in a pair of sleep pants and Maine’s shirt, he clambered onto the bed and sat against the pillows at the top. He let himself be swallowed up by Maine’s large shirt, letting its warmth and familiarity envelope him. He wrapped his blanket around him, watched as Ari and Skyler explored the new surroundings and then jumped to curl up next to him. He felt Carolina kiss the top of his head and tell him to rest, dumping the television remote next to him and walking out of the room.

He turned the TV on and flicked through, settling on a channel that was apparently playing a marathon of superhero films, and slumped back. He wrapped himself tighter in his blanket, and it wasn’t long before his eyes began to droop. Before the first movie had gotten even half way through he was asleep.

* * *

He was woken up a few hours later by a familiar voice, and a hand gently shaking him. He groaned, batting at the hand and curling tighter into a ball, only to be shaken more.

“David, wake up,” Carolina said, shaking his shoulder, “You can sleep again soon, I promise, but this is important.”

Wash whined, but he forced himself to open his eyes and sit up. He yawned, rubbing his eyes. His head ached, pain gathered at the back of his skull from the meltdown earlier that day. His hands were definitely bruised, too. God, he was an absolute _mess_.

“Mm… what is it?” He mumbled, blinking a few times. There was no immediate reply, but upon looking around he was quickly aware of a laptop sitting facing away from him on the end of the bed. York was crouched behind it, whilst Carolina was knelt next to the bed where she’d been shaking Wash. He blinked again, “Wha…?”

“York and I pulled a few strings,” She said, smiling at him. Wash’s brow furrowed, and with his eyes focused on her he went to reply, when−

“ _Hey_.”

His breath caught in his throat. His eyes snapped back to the laptop in an instant.

Maine. Maine was right there, in their standard army gear, a small smile on their face and a hand raised.

Wash’s hands flew to his mouth to stop him from _meowing_ , only to fall away moments lately as he started to flap.

“Want us to leave you to it?” Carolina asked, “Or leave you for a short while then come back?”

“I… t-that, that. The second one,” Wash said, swallowing hard, his hand still going. Carolina nodded, mussing up his hair and leading York out of the room.

Wash was pretty sure he was going to cry again, but for totally different reasons to that morning.

“ _David?_ ” Maine said, their smile turning to a worried frown, “ _Crying?_ ”

“I-I… God, I’m sorry,” Wash wiped his eyes quickly, trying to even out his breathing. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning, even as the tears welled back up, and he felt himself beginning to wiggle where he sat, “I-Isaac… I miss you so much a-already I… I-I’m a mess I’m sorry…!”

“ _Hey, no. No apologising_ ,” Maine said, face softening again. They shifted a little closer to the camera, adjusting it a little, “ _Miss you too._ ”

“T-This week’s been so b-bad and I-I forgot to feed Ari and Skyler today and−”

“ _Carolina said. Don’t need to talk about that,_ ” They said, cutting him off. Wash rubbed his eyes and nodded, and Maine gave a smile, raising a hand with their two middlemost fingers folded down, “ _Love you._ ”

Wash managed a smile in return, raising his hand in the same way, “I l-love you too…”

They slipped into sign language after that; their conversation became easier and more relaxed. Wash’s face lit up more with every passing moment. Tears still fell down his cheeks; his chest still ached; his brain still tried to scream at him and bring him down; but for now he could relax. For now he was able to smile, laugh, stim, feel a _little_ better. The episode hadn’t passed, he knew that, but he felt better than he had all week.

He was making Ari wave at Maine, which she appeared to put up with only begrudgingly for her human, when Carolina peered back in and asked if they could come back. Wash nodded, and the came and sat by him.

“T-Thank you both, thank you so much…” He sniffed, wiping away the newest stream of tears. Maine watched him with both affection and worry in their eyes, the worry fading for a moment when Wash gave them another smile, “I… just… Fuck I’m bad with words I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine,” Carolina said, ruffling his hair. Maine chuckled at that, and at the face Wash pulled, “We had to try. I couldn’t let my little brother stay that upset. I know this doesn’t fix it, but…”

Wash shook his head, “I-It means so much, thank you…”

“ _Thank you,_ ” Maine added, nodding, “ _I worry._ ”

“We all do,” York said, poking Wash’s side. Wash swatted him, “But of course you do more. We’ll keep an eye on him though, he can stay here as long as he needs to. We should have done more for him before today.”

Maine shrugged, “ _Done now. Thank you._ ”

“Come on,” Carolina said, “Let’s make the most of the call, okay?”

Wash nodded. He wasn’t going to object to that.

And so they began to talk again, now in a mix of sign and spoken language –only really speaking because York wasn’t anywhere close to fluent in ASL yet. Wash couldn’t stop stimming, alternating between purring and meowing; flapping; wiggling; and a combination thereof. Maine couldn’t stop grinning at the sight. Things felt _okay_.

Maybe things would be alright.

Wash just had to remember that he had help.


End file.
